Nocturne
by sinkingsidewalks
Summary: '"What the bloody hell is this, Fitz?" Jemma tosses the phone, Fitz' phone, down onto the bed.' Post-ep for 4x10 wherein FitzSimmons actually talk about their relationship.


Fitz walks out of the bathroom still scrubbing a towel through his hair. Pajama bottoms, patterned with simplistically drawn stars and constellations, hang off his hip bones and a drop of water lazily makes its way down towards his stomach from the top of his chest, swooping through his collar bone on its way.

"All…" He trails off, pausing a step inside the room when he catches a glance of Jemma standing there, behind the bed, a firm expression etched into her beautiful features. "Yours." He finishes lamely. The towel falls to the floor and in the back of his mind he thinks that Jemma is going to be annoyed with him about that later.

"What the bloody hell is this, Fitz?" Jemma tosses the phone, Fitz' phone, down onto the bed. It bounces once but doesn't go anywhere. Neither of them spare it another glance.

Fitz scrubs his hand through his hair for a moment of silence then drags it down to the stubble along his jaw. "Well…"

Jemma struggles not to cross her arms over her chest and instead finds her hands coming together in a tangle when she can't quite suppress the urge.

"Wait, wait, a minute, what were you doing on my phone in the first place?" He knows it's a lame deflection but it comes out automatically and he doesn't have anything else, any reasonable argument, to replace it with.

"Fitz." She does cross her arms now; it can't be helped.

"Right." He sighs, twisting his neck now with his palm still at his chin. "Well…"

Jemma looks at him expectantly and irritation tugs away his rational thinking.

"You know very well what it is, Simmons, don't play at naivety."

Simmons huffs. "It's Aida."

Fitz pulls at the back of his neck but the word doesn't come out forgivingly. "Yes."

"That's what you were doing in the armoury earlier."

He looks down at his bare toes against the carpet. So lying to her earlier wasn't his best idea.

"I thought we'd agreed that this was better left alone." She takes a large breath. "The potential repercussions of technology like this are catastrophic, Fitz. We very nearly experienced them ourselves, you saw what happened to Nathanson."

"But Jemma," Fitz all but interrupts, "the potential _is_ what I'm thinking of. Think of how many people she could save."

" _It_." Jemma corrects, frustration colouring her tone, "and not if you can't keep it under control, not if it keeps _going rogue_."

Fitz steps forward, his hands dropped in front of him. "That's why I need your help Simmons. You're exactly what this needs to work."

He takes another tentative step. "What technology is perfect in its first incarnation? Nothing, essentially. So we just need to go back to the drawing board, _together_ this time, and unravel a couple of kinks. Exactly how we've done for every other project we've put together."

Sighing, Jemma presses her fingers into the edge of her forehead, just at her hairline. "But those were _our_ projects, Fitz. This is Radcliffe's, and you know what his… moral compass is like."

"But that doesn't mean it's not still a good idea. That doesn't mean it won't still save lives. Our friends lives, _your_ life, Jemma."

She folds her arms again and sighs. It's not that he's wrong, they both know that. "That's not what I'm upset about."

Stepping forward again, he opens his palms. "I'm sorry I lied." As much as he didn't want her to stop him, as much as he didn't want to have this conversation, there's no denying the relief that washed over him the moment he realized that he was caught. It swept away the dread and guilt that settled in his chest the moment he opened his mouth in the armoury which has since been climbing up, choking the breath from his lungs.

Jemma steps forward as well and, with the distance between them more than halved, Fitz takes a leaps and moves close enough to run his palms over the sides of her arms. She bites at her bottom lip and shifts closer to him.

"We're not supposed to be doing that anymore." Her voice is heavy and it settles the guilt in even deeper.

"I know. I'm so sorry. I've felt rotten about it all evening. It was probably only a couple of hours until I fessed up." He slips one arm around her waist, settling his hand along the curve of her spine. The smooth cotton of her shirt catches against the callouses on his fingers.

Her cheek drops onto his shoulder and her body melts into his. "How do I know I can forgive you?" Her tone is light but there's an edge to it that tells him she's not precisely kidding.

"I _am_ sorry." He sighs and takes the hand off her back to rub at the corners of his eyes for a moment then replaces it. "It's just that when it comes to your safety, Jemma I don't quite judge things rationally."

She tilts her jaw up so that she can meet his eyes. "I can take care of myself, Fitz." She should say it adamantly, has before many times, but now it comes out softly, reassuring.

"I know. It's not that I question your capability, Jemma, it's just our lives. Death is around every corner and I'll be damned if I don't do everything possible to keep you as far away from that as I'm capable of."

"I understand that Fitz, but there has to be limits. You can't just go messing with technology we barely have a grasp on, defying the Director's orders, or the old director." She shakes the thought from her head. "You know what I mean."

He tightens his grip on her waist. It wasn't his best laid plan.

"How about if next time I have some 'crazy' idea about how to make things safer I run it past you first?"

She thinks about it for a moment, and judges the accuracy of his tone. "That really would make me feel better."

"Then that's what I'll do."

She sinks into his chest a little more. "And Aida?"

He sighs. "I'll talk to Coulson about her tomorrow."

"Thank you." She whispers, her lips brushing against his collar bone as she speaks.

"I love you." His nose presses into the crown of her head. "Is that all right?"

She pauses, a breath rushing from her lungs. Her hand on the warm bare skin of his chest which can feel his heart beating beneath the surface. A smile curls at her lips, just barely. "I suppose I can live with that."

A/N:

I started writing this immediately after watching the episode because I can't believe that they're going there again. This is going to happen in canon but I can dream. Let me know what you think! If you want to chat my tumblr is the same as this username.

And sorry for the crap title, I'm out of ideas and it sort of works.


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